


To Heal An Angel's Heart

by howl_at_that_moon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howl_at_that_moon/pseuds/howl_at_that_moon
Summary: Castiel has just lost the most important thing in his life.  Will help from a couple of friends and his memories be enough?  Or will it take something else?  Something supernatural?Alternate ending to Season 12





	1. To Heal An Angel's Heart

Castiel was on the ground, looking at where the tear to the other dimension had been.  There was nothing there, not even a shimmer.  Even so, he stared.  He could faintly hear Dean calling for him, but he couldn’t look away.  He realized he was alive, but nothing past that seemed the least bit important.  It wasn’t until he felt hands lifting him off the ground that he woke from his haze.  He knew it was Dean just by the way he carried him.  It’s quite interesting how differently Sam and Dean carry people, he thought. 

Dean brought him back inside and Castiel saw Kelly lying on the bed.  And there was some…thing across the room hacked to bits.  He assumed it was Jack, Lucifer’s offspring.  It seemed that death was haunting him and he closed his eyes to escape.  It didn’t work, though, and he could still see the scene playing in his head on a continuous loop. Dean sat him down on the bed and grabbed his face.  He couldn’t look at him right now.  It would make all of this too real, and that would tear him apart. His eyes stayed closed, as he tried to block out Dean’s voice.

“Cas?  Cas! CAS!!!”

He felt his whole body shake as Dean tried to get his attention.  _No, this is a dream.  It can’t be real._   His refused to acknowledge him, and he let himself get tossed about like a ragdoll.  He could softly hear Dean again, and this time he was calling out for Sam to help him.  He didn’t want to move.  All he wanted was to lie down… to just get away for a bit.  He felt his right arm being lifted, this time by Sam.

“Castiel?  Hey, are you ok?  Cas, you’re scaring us.”

Sam’s voice was slightly melodic, like It is when he is tending to injuries or getting people out of difficult situations.  It seemed that he was concerned.  There was more shaking, and hands settling on his face.  He wanted them to go away and just leave him be.  They laid him down on the bed, and he felt their eyes watching him, trying to find out what was wrong.  He didn’t care though.  The only thing keeping his mind open were those two chattering and moving him around.  He just wanted a peaceful rest and to lock away everything.  For good.

“What do we do?  It’s not like we can take him to a hospital.”

“I don’t know, Sam.  I mean, could this be an after effect of the other dimension?”

“Possibly.  But it really doesn’t have a precedent and WE’RE fine, so… if possible, it could be that only Angels are affected?”

“No.  When Lucifer came back through the tear he was fine.  AND Castiel shoved him back in.”

Castiel almost smiled inside… the best he could, anyway.  It was like a fine mist of happy was filling the air, but barely a drop landed on him.  They were already doing what they do best.  They were on the hunt.  He laid there, not moving.  Barely breathing.  The numbness already coming back, and he welcomed it.  That’s what he wanted.  Nothing.

“Boys?  What’s going on?”

Mary?  Was she here?  Her presence was comforting somehow, yet he knew it wouldn’t be permanent.  He relaxed a bit and it felt like he was in two states of mind, which were fighting each other. He was just waiting to see which one would be the victor.  If he were honest, he’d choose death if that were an option.  Right now, the best thing would be hibernation.  He could be there as long as he wanted to be.

“It’s Castiel.  He won’t respond to anything.  We’ve talked to him, yelled at him, shook him, everything we could think of.” Dean explained.

“Maybe it’s what happens to angels in that place?”

“Checked that.  Lucifer stepped back no problem.” he heard Sam using logic, as always.

“Yes, but Cas pushed him back in.  He would have had to be in his right mind to do that.”

Dean piped up then.  “Wait.  What if it was a slow progression?  He was still aware when I picked him up off the ground.  And when we first walked in.  He was looking all over the room.”

“Dean may be right, Sam.” Mary agreed. “What if the alternate universe worked similarly to Michael’s lance?  Only in mental form?”

“I… “

“Dean, I know he is a close friend, but...” Mary tried to console her son.

“He was family!  He _is_ family.  And I’m gonna find a way to fix this, no matter how long it takes!”

“Dean, you might not have enough time.” Sam sighed. “We obviously don’t have any angels on our side, and only about one or two don’t judge Cas…they still hate us, though.”

“Well, then, we have to find angel lore!  We might find the answers—”

Sam tried to rationalize with him. “Dean, you know we couldn’t find anything on angels in the bunker when we were looking for how to defeat Lucifer this time.  I think we may have to let it go.”

“Listen to him, Dean.” Mary coaxed. “Even if there is something on this, we’d probably run out of time.”

“NO!  It can’t—no.  He’s part of my family.”

Castiel was still listening to everything they were saying.  The fact that Dean was hurting made the decision even harder, and some of the self-imposed numbness eased away.  He casually shifted a bit, and now all he could hear were mumblings.  He heard a few words… _Dean…angel…contacting_.  The next thing he heard was sobbing and the whispers of Sam and Mary trying to help.  Dean’s anguish caused all his emotions to flood back in.  It was so intense, it felt almost unbearable.

He heard footsteps coming nearer to the bed.  Somehow he knew it was Dean.  The brothers walked differently, too.  “Cas?  I really hope you can hear me.  It’s hard to watch family die, you know?  Especially when they’re very close.  I don’t want you to die, Cas.  It would tear me apart.”

_I know how that feels…_

“Remember the first day we met, and Bobby kept shooting at you?  You definitely made an entrance. Scared the shit out of us.  Then those first couple of days…perhaps years...you struggled through this world.  We really didn’t understand what you went through, but you grew and grew and grew until you were family.  You’ve been family for a long time, Cas.”

_But I’ve lost so much more…_

“Man, I remember first seeing that hideous car you drive… you were so adamant about liking it.  And that it ran well.  I couldn’t resist getting in a jibe.  And us?  You, me, and Sam preventing the apocalypse?  And you drinking the whole liquor store was kinda a highlight for me.  And your lack of personal space.  Eventually you did learn what it was.  I would accept every single time you were entering my personal space if you would wake up and tell us you’re not dying.”

_The car…_

He didn’t know if he could do this, as he started to feel even more.  Emotions are a terrible thing for angels to have.  If he came back, he would be crushed.  If he chose the numbness and slipped into a hibernating state, he knew who he would be leaving behind.

 “I can’t think of anything else to say.  I’ll just keep repeating ‘don’t die’, and... and... I love you.  Everyone loves you.  You’ve saved us countless times.  And even when you were human you were always with us.”

_I love you too, but…_

It seemed to be impossible, but he had made his decision.  It was so hard, and no one ever told him that he might have to decide about this.  He was an angel; granted, he was barred from heaven, and the Winchesters made a home for him here.  Yet what he lost was tearing up his heart. 

“Dean?” his voice was very gravely after not speaking since being brought inside.

“Cas?  CAS! You’re not dying!  I hope you heard what I said to you.  I don’t—I don’t, you know, open up like that. And well… I really meant it.  I meant every word.”

He heard people rushing in.  Sam and Mary, most likely.

“I did, Dean.  It helped me decide.  I just… need advice.”

“Anything, Cas.”  Dean’s voice started to sound more like himself, as if he were shoving his emotions back inside.

“How do humans heal a broken heart?”

 

 

_Castiel knew his car wasn’t the best, but it was his.  He sighed and watched as Crowley slipped into the passenger side.  He was still angry that even when they were completely alone, Crowley kept up his usual banter instead of taking the opportunity to just be together.  He slid into the driver’s side, slamming the door.  He knew what usually happened when they got back into the car.  This was different.  He sighed.  It was secluded and there was absolutely no one there.  For once they could’ve been affectionate somewhere other than the car, or hiding in a bedroom in the bunker, trying to avoid Sam and Dean._

_He started the car, and almost immediately Crowley rested his hand On Castiel’s free one, letting his thumb wander over the back of it._

_“I guess you’re not going to continue being the jerk you were when we were outside.” Castiel grumbled. “We were in a secluded area with absolutely NO ONE there.  They had closed that biking/running trail last year.  We were alone.”_

_“We were out of the car, Feathers.  It doesn’t matter.”_

_Castiel turned his head sharply to look at the demon.  “Really?  That’s what you’re going to say?  I found this place a couple of weeks ago.  I staked it out.  Absolutely no one went through it nor anywhere near it.  I just thought that we could drop the act.  Guess I was wrong.”_

_Looking ahead once again, Castiel pushed on the accelerator.  He was going to go to the bunker, but he needed to leave Crowley somewhere.  After all, it didn’t even matter if he dropped him off in the middle of nowhere, Crowley could just snap his fingers and go wherever he wanted.  Personally, at this point, he wanted to stop the car and tell him to get out right now._

_“Well, excuse me.  I thought that we were waiting ever so patiently for one of your little friends to show up.  Granted, it did cross my mind.  You look ever so tantalizing today after all.”_

_He slowly pulled his car over to the side, making sure that it wouldn’t get hit by any passing cars.  He turned to Crowley, who was sitting still, and noticed that he looked hurt, too._

_“Crowley?”_

_“Reading minds isn’t one of my spectacular powers.  Especially angel minds.  I suppose I should’ve known, though.”_

_“No.  I should have told you, so we could’ve had some time out of the car.”_

_He saw Crowley shaking his head; he lifted his face up.  It was so sad.  He looked lost.  He had never seen the demon look so… weak.  He had a damn good poker face.  Castiel knew that he could stare at Crowley for hours.  This expression though… he never wanted to see it again.  He grabbed Crowley’s head and slowly started pulling him closer.  He didn’t want to assume, but he shouldn’t have worried.  Crowley leaned in and caught Castiel’s lip with his teeth._

 

 

Castiel sat up in bed and was immediately assaulted by three worried voices.  They were all saying that he should lie down to get his strength back, or something like that.  He knew that if he laid back down, though, he might not sit back up again.  It felt like his insides were burning. 

“I wasn’t sick.  I was... thinking.”  He looked down quickly, then looked back up, his eyes settling on Dean.  “As I said before, it was Dean who made me realize how much hurt you would go through if I decided to stay away for a bit... or more.  But no matter what, I will not see my soulmate ever again.”

Castiel watched the three of them processing what he had just said.  Mary looked sympathetic.  Sam looked a bit confused, doing that completely adorable forehead scrunch he always did.  And Dean was looking a bit angry.  He should’ve known.

“You.  You were going to ‘go away’… whatever the hell that means… for another dead person?” Dean looked straight at him.

“My soulmate.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.  I thought you were dying.  I thought I was going to lose a member of _my_ family.” Dean yelled. “You’re my best friend, Cas, but I need to cool the fuck down right now, before I really lay into you.”  The anger in his eyes flickered momentarily to sadness before returning again.

He watched as Dean walked away and a true layer of sadness draped over his whole being.  Turning to Sam and Mary, he asked a question with his eyes.  Would they leave him too?  Neither of them was angry.  He had heard Sam talk about soulmates before, but Dean always shut down that idea.  Perhaps Sam could go talk to Dean. He turned to look at the door Dean had gone through; he knew he was seething in there.

“I’ll take care of Dean, don’t worry.  You said you had a soulmate.  Do you feel like talking about it?”  Sam looked very curious.  That was the thing about Sam; honesty showed on his face when it was genuine.  Unfortunately he had been placed in many a situation where he couldn’t be genuine.  It was a part of the job.

Castiel sighed.  “Not really.  But it’s always two sides of the same coin.  One’s black, one’s white.  One’s Ying and another Yang.  The darkness…and the light.”  

He watched as Sam processed what he had just heard, trying to put it all together.  When he figured it out, his head shot up to look at Castiel with wide eyes.  Before he could say anything, Mary broke the silence.

 “It’s Crowley.”

Cas turned his head to face Mary, but Sam was still in his peripheral vision.   He watched as her face got softer, caring.  Tears started to stain his cheeks once again, and he felt her hand holding his.  He looked over to where Sam was right before, but he wasn’t there.  He tried to keep himself under control so he wouldn’t be a sobbing mess when Sam eventually returned.  This world just became even more confusing for him, which he’d never thought could ever happen.  Mary wrapped her arms around him as she started speaking softly.

“Soulmates can pass each other in the night.  They can guide us through the rocky waters to get to where the calm, shining lake is.  We can’t choose them.  No one chooses them.  They were here before the earth was.  Basically, Heaven sends down a sign when you are ready.”

“How can a demon be the soulmate of an angel?”  It had confused him since that first night.  Her presence and wonderful words calmed him down a bit, but that demon/angel thing tripped him up when he had realized Crowley was his. 

 

 

_They were both at a local bar with the Winchesters.  He felt eyes on him and he turned to look.  Crowley was staring at him from across the room.  Once he returned the gaze, he knew.  It threw him for a loop and he managed to look away.  Eventually he looked in the direction where Crowley had been, but the demon was gone.  He frantically looked around and a voice came to him through the air. **Are you coming or not**?  He whipped around to look at the door and saw Crowley walking out._

_When Castiel got outside, he was quickly pulled into a side alley and lips were pressed against his.  That’s what started it all.  That’s why they had to sneak around.  The hard fact was that he was banned from Heaven, let alone trying to bring a demon there, and he remembered the times he’d been in Hell before.  He wasn’t exactly welcomed there either, and Crowley knew that all too well._

 

 

Cas was brought out of his memory by Mary’s voice.  “It’s happened before, but only twice in all of history.  One pair is still together.  The other pair got ambushed by angels that killed them.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I came across it when we were searching the lore regarding Lucifer.  Thought it was interesting.  It didn’t tell me what would happen if one of the pair died, though.”

Mary smiled at him and kept holding his hand.  Suddenly he heard footsteps and braced himself.  It could be Sam…or Dean…or both.  His breath became shallow and he was afraid.  When both Sam and Dean came to the doorway, he wished he were somewhere else.  He had chosen to come back, no matter how much it hurt him, and now the person he came back for was still hurt.

“Cas.  I’m so freakin’ angry.” Dean growled. “I’m just boiling...I can’t even be near you.  Sam told me about Crowley.  I can’t believe you had a relationship with someone like him.  A demon… and a slippery one at that.”

“Dean, I—”

“No.  There will never be any excuse for that.  Ever.”  Dean stared him down.  “I’m going back to the bunker.  Don’t come looking for me.   I don’t want to see you in my home.” Dean turned to leave and was stopped by Sam.  “And no, Sam, it _isn’t_ like when I was a demon… that _wasn’t_ my _choice._ ”  Sam’s hand left him, and Dean walked through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

Castiel felt like another boulder was placed on top of him, crushing him.  Dean, the same Dean who had told him he loved him, didn’t want him in his life.  It was another piece of him that was torn away.  He didn’t have much left. 

“Cas?  Hey…it’s Sam.”

Castiel didn’t want to hear Sam tell him that he was abandoning him, too.  He was both physically and mentally in pain, and he knew he couldn’t function if another part of him was gone.  Then Castiel felt arms around him.  Large, comforting arms.  Sam’s arms.  He struggled to take in a breath when he realized Sam wasn’t going anywhere.  He sighed and just gave into the feeling of being loved.  He needed it.

“Cas, it may not seem like it now, but it’ll get better.  I don’t know what it’s like to lose a soulmate.  I can’t even imagine.”

“It hurts.  Like I’m burning up inside.  I feel so helpless.  It’s… so hard.” He paused, trying to get himself together.  “Do you think I should’ve just… let go?  Everyone is leaving me.  Please don’t – “

 “I’m not leaving you, Cas.  I don’t care who your soulmate was.  He wasn’t my biggest fan,” Sam paused.  “Actually, that’s an understatement.  But I could see how comfortable you were together.  Even your petty bantering reminded me of Dean and I.  And I’d never wish for you not to be here.  You are family, and I love you.  Dean will come around…he’s been angry with you before, and he always came back.  I promise, Cas.  He’ll be back.”

 “Sam, please help me make it go away.”

 

 

_He lay in the arms of his soulmate, pulling himself as close as he could get.  It was such a blessing (and quite rare) these days that Sam and Dean were out on a long hunt.  He planned to spend the time with Crowley.  They had just finished making love and he felt so content.  It’s what Castiel had wanted this time.  It was no secret that he loved it when Crowley just took control, but every once in a while, he needed some soft caresses and lingering kisses.  Closing his eyes, he just drifted in the afterglow and he felt Crowley pull him even closer, his hands running up and down his back._

_It was about three weeks since their frantic tryst in the alleyway, and the hotel room they went to afterwards.  There was no questioning it, however.  He was in love.  He was afraid to say it, though, because he might push Crowley away.  That would be the most devastating thing he could imagine right now.  So, he just took in every touch and breath that he could, while he rested in the comfort of his lover’s arms._

_“Castiel?”_

_“Mmm...?”_

_“You know I’m not one for sentiment.  In fact, I quite loathe it.  But you -” he paused, “well, I’ve never said this to anyone, and I never imagined saying it to an angel of all things…”_

_“Crowley.  Just say it.”_

_“Fine.” Crowley grumbled. “I was just going to say... I love you.”_

_His spirit soared and entered a state of complete and utter bliss.  After all his wondering about what would happen if he told Crowley he loved him, he had said it first.  He knew right then that he’d be with Crowley forever._

_“I love you too.  So much.”_

_“Now you’re getting a bit too sappy for me, Feathers.”_

_Castiel laughed, pushing his face into Crowley’s chest, muffling it a bit.  He didn’t care about being sappy, and he knew Crowley would avoid saying the ‘L’ word ever again, but the fact that he had said it at all meant he truly did love him._

_The banging of a door took Castiel out of the bliss he was experiencing.  Hearing some mumblings, he knew it was Sam and Dean.  His heart sank, and he felt angry.  All he wanted to do was spend the time they were out on a hunt with Crowley, and now that was gone.  They’d most likely come right to his room to tell him they were back._

_“Castiel… I thought the flannel twins were going to be gone for longer.”_

_“They were.  I have no idea why they’re back.”  He sighed. “They’re going to be coming to knock on my door soon.  And sometimes Dean just walks in, even though Sam has told him more than once that even though I didn’t need to sleep that it was inconsiderate.”_

_He watched as Crowley ran his hand over his face, and then looked at the door.  He heard the click of the lock._

_“It’s locked.  He can’t come in.  Squirrel never had any patience, so I suppose you probably have him pegged.  But we need more time.”_

_His lips were captured by Crowley’s and his bliss returned.  Perhaps they would leave him alone for a while.  The kiss deepened, he let out a whimper.  This is what he needed.  What he loved.  Soon, they turned over and he was trapped by Crowley’s body._

_“So, you said I could do what I wanted, right?” Crowley’s eyebrow raised in question._

_“Yes, but—”_

_“No buts, Castiel. I am going to do what I want.  Just a little… different.  Those overgrown apes have taken away some of my time.”_

_Suddenly, Castiel found himself handcuffed onto a bar above the bed, and his legs were held apart by a bar, which hung from a hook connected to the ceiling.  His back brushed lightly against the sheets._

_“Now, I had planned on teasing you mercilessly.  I’d have made it go on for hours.”_

_He moaned and tried shifting around.  Just the thought of Crowley doing whatever he wanted with him made him even more aroused, and he knew that wouldn’t go unnoticed.  He felt invisible hands on him everywhere except his cock, and he was going to just let go when he heard footsteps coming nearer his room._

_“Crowley” he whispered “we can’t.  They—”_

_Crowley snapped his fingers and lent down to whisper into his ear.  “Sound barrier.  They can’t hear us.  At all.  So, princess, let out all those noises you’re just dying to make.”_

_Castiel didn’t need to be told twice, and he immediately threw his head back, letting out a low moan.  His cock was so hard right now, but Crowley managed to keep all those hands off it.  Then he felt Crowley’s real, warm hands playing along his crack, pausing right at his opening before being thrust inside.  He couldn’t stop himself from trying to push down on them, but his restraints put him in a position where it was impossible._

_“Ah.  You want more, don’t you?” Crowley’s fingers went deeper and Castiel made a guttural sound in his throat, his breath becoming shallow.  “I think you want something else…” he bent down again to Castiel’s ear. “Do you want me to fuck you?  Have my cock in you instead of my fingers?  Oh, how I would love to slowly bring you to the point where you’re begging me to let you come.”_

_The sounds that escaped him were feral, and then he felt Crowley’s fingers retreat, making him whine at the loss.  He didn’t have to wait long, though, and was soon impaled on the demon’s cock, which proceeded to move excruciatingly slow.  Soon, he felt demon magic wrap around his own hardness and he knew he wouldn’t be able to come until Crowley let him._

_There was a knock on the door, and that brought him slightly out of his headspace, his eyes narrowing as an aggravated growl was released - Crowley had turned toward the door briefly before he turned back, his eyes glowing slightly red.  He never outright told Crowley this, but when his eyes glowed like that it almost always sent him over the edge.  Crowley’s pace picked up to the point where he was pumping in and out of him frantically.  It felt so good, there was no way he could form complete sentences._

_“Cas!  CAS!  You alright?!” Dean screamed through the door._

_Crowley stopped abruptly and hissed, “Tell them you’re okay.” He snapped his fingers._

_Castiel took a breath.  “Guys, I’m… ngh… fine!  Can I have some, uh, privacy?”_

_Another snap of fingers and he was being plowed into again.  He thought the demon couldn’t go any faster, but he proved him wrong as he set a brutal pace that shook his restraints and brought about a litany of curses and deep guttural moans.  Then the thrusts became deeper, and he could feel Crowley come inside him._

_“Oh my god.”  His head fell back as much as it could._

_“I always think it’s funny when you call out to your daddy when I’m taking you apart.  Makes it even kinkier.”_

_“CAS!!!” More pounding on the door. “What’s going on?!  Are you ok?”_

_Crowley’s eyebrows came together. He was obviously angry, but Castiel knew he was thinking too.  A wicked grin appeared and then he leaned down and gave him a soft kiss.  “I do believe, my dear, that is my cue to go.”_

_The next second, Crowley was gone, along with all the physical restraints.  That’s when Cas realized that the demon magic binding his cock was still there.  He couldn’t get rid of it, either. “For fucks sake, Crowley.”_

_“CAS!!!”_

_“Oh, will you… I’m coming!  Just let me put some clothes on!”  He yelled out to them. As he was getting dressed, every little thing that brushed against his crotch sent both a shiver of pleasure and a small spike of pain through him.  He never thought he would be so grateful that he wore a baggy trench coat._

_He made his way over to the door before Dean decided to break it down.  Unlocking it, he stared at him.  Sam stood behind and looked apologetic.  He could tell Dean was relieved once he saw him, but that didn’t stop how angry he felt.  He’d never show it on his face, though.  He sighed and lifted his eyebrow._

_“Why didn’t you have clothes on?”_

_Castiel looked him in the eye.  He wanted to tell him the truth so badly.  He wanted him to know how much he just took away from him.  How much he was desperately yearning for Crowley to be back.  He couldn’t though; he knew it wouldn’t go well._

_“It was comfortable.”_

_Dean looked at him quizzically, most likely trying to figure out why he had taken his clothes off in the first place.  He looked over at Sam, who had a smile on his face.  A knowing smile.  He stared him down, trying to make sure Sam knew not to tell Dean.  Sam nodded his head and then looked at his brother, rolling his eyes._

_“Why did you—”_

_“I read it on the internet.”_

 

 

Castiel sat on the bed and sighed.  He was staying in the house by the lake, where it all happened, as if he were trying to be as close to Crowley as he could.  It wasn’t really working, but he had a feeling that if he went further away he would feel worse.  Sam and Mary had cleaned up what he was told was Lucifer’s offspring and made a grave for Kelly as he’d laid on the bed trying not to think of anything.  They had both spent the night there afterwards, Mary in the bed with him.  He supposed she was trying to be comforting, but he still felt all alone.

He hadn’t left the house in the week since everything happened.  Mary and Sam had come by almost every day to be here with him.  While it was a nice gesture, and he loved them both for it, it made him feel trapped.  He eventually told them that he’d appreciated everything, but that he needed to learn how to live life by himself again, and that a weekly visit would be better than trying to come visit every day.  They’d agreed to it… after Sam made him swear up and down that he wouldn’t try to do anything rash.  He didn’t know how long this went on, exactly, but he would wager it was at least ten minutes.  Castiel shook his head in amusement at the memory.

He swore he wouldn’t, and he didn’t.  Even if he had lost Dean, Sam was still there, and he trusted Sam more than he ever had in the past.  And then there was Mary, who he had gotten extremely close to over the week, and she was another good friend he couldn’t leave behind. 

He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked around.  There was nothing to really do here.  He spent most of the time lying in the bed and daydreaming.  He really wished angels slept.  At least then he could have some relief.  Last time Sam was here, he had set up Netflix with his help since there wasn’t any cable in the house.  Magically sustained streaming video.  Sam had also set up a DVD player and brought a box of DVDs.  He had started to look through them, noticing there was a lot of what Dean would call “chick flicks.”  He assumed they were all from Sam’s collection.  Nothing appealed to him, though, and he hadn’t watched any DVDs.  Or any Netflix. 

Castiel stood up and walked towards the door.  He had done this about half a dozen times that day, but no matter how hard he tried, he hadn’t been able to turn the door handle and go outside.  This time, his hand rested on the knob as he stood there trying to gain the courage to turn it.  Suddenly, he got angry with himself; he should be able to turn a door handle and walk outside the house.  He was living in self-imposed torture.  Leaving the house to go outside should be fine.  It wasn’t like he was leaving altogether.  He turned the knob.

When the door opened, he felt the crisp chill of the evening air.  Slowly stepping outside, he was immediately drawn to where the inter-dimensional tear had been.  He walked over and sat down on the ground, reaching out once again for the last place he had seen his soulmate.  He still found nothing.  It would have been foolish to think otherwise.

“Crowley, I miss you so much.  I don’t understand what happened… didn’t you know I would be lost without you?  Sometimes thinking about it makes me angry because you ripped something away from me I never thought I’d lose.  You.” Castiel lifted his hand up to his face to wipe away his tears.  “I don’t know how to live right now.  I’ve been in the house for a week.  Sam and Mary kept coming over, but all I wanted was to be alone and remember the last time we were together.  Right before I brought Kelly here.  I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The tears were flowing steadily by now, and he couldn’t talk anymore.  It had been like any other extreme crisis, and he knew he would have been able to find solace in Crowley afterwards.  But he couldn’t.  They didn’t even talk during the crisis, which seemed to be for the best.  The fact that he couldn’t run over and kiss him goodbye made him feel even worse.  Wrapping his arms around his knees, he remembered.

 

 

_He had already been through the tear into the other dimension and it disturbed him.  Bobby had told him that this was the reality if Sam and Dean hadn’t been born, and if they had never stopped the apocalypse.  That gave him a little comfort, as this wasn’t something that could happen to their world anymore, but it still gave him chills._

_Sam and Dean arrived, and he turned to see them.  Of course, there was the usual discussion about why, how, when, and where.  As always.  He told them he had been in the other dimension already, then the three of them walked through, meeting Bobby.  Everything was explained to them, but it didn’t really give them any more clarity._

_It was obvious that the three of them didn’t know what to do about the tear or Lucifer’s child, although the latter was most likely going to be killed… and then there was Lucifer._

_Castiel watched Sam and Dean as they tried to take it all in. Dean was his usual eloquent self._ _“I mean, we've got Lucifer on this side, we've got Mad Max World on that side. I mean, yeah, we've been down before, but this? I-I mean, I don't even know where to start.”_

_“Oh, come on! Hello, boys. Again.”  Crowley appeared out of the blue._

_“Wait a second, how the hell did you –”_

_“I improvised.”  He held up his hand, which was injured and wrapped in gauze. “Lucky I did.  Turns out I'm the answer to all your problems.”_

_Castiel saw him and suddenly knew everything was going to be okay.  Crowley had found a ritual that needed to be carried out in the other dimension, along with all the ingredients.  It would seal up the tear between dimensions and they would (hopefully) trap Lucifer there._

_Castiel readied himself to step through again, this time with Crowley, too. Dean had the ultimate machine gun filled with angel-killing bullets; even if it didn’t kill Lucifer, it would at least hold him off, so Sam and Crowley could do the ritual.  As it turned out, the bullets slowed Lucifer down but didn’t stop him from beating Dean quite badly._

_After they had completed the ritual to seal the rift and trap Lucifer, he watched as Crowley started to walk toward Lucifer with an angel blade and Sam and Dean came over to join him. They were right at the tear, waiting to see what happened.  Sam looked a bit worried, and he made a mental note to ask him what was wrong once they got this all settled.  Lucifer and Crowley seemed to exchange some words and he wondered if Lucifer would be killed this time.  He kept staring at Crowley, trying to lend him his strength as if he were there with him.  He couldn’t wait to hold him again._

**_I love you._** He heard the demon’s voice.

_The second he saw Crowley impale himself on the angel blade, his whole being screamed in pain.  He was pulled into the real world before the tear had sealed completely, followed by Lucifer.  His anguish turned to white hot rage as he pushed Lucifer back into the other side, and the next second it was closed._  
  


 

He sat at the bar by himself.  Yesterday Sam had stopped by the house and after a little bit, suggested that they go out somewhere.  He had automatically shot the idea down, but somehow Sam had managed to convince him that leaving the house for one night would be good for him and he finally agreed to go. 

Castiel had to admit after about a half hour, that Sam’s idea of getting him out of the house was helping him get out of his own head.  They had spent three hours at the bar just talking, but not about Crowley.  The idea of the little jaunt was to help him forget about him for at least a short time.  By the end of the night, he was smiling, and the searing pain had lessened to a dull ache.  

That’s why he was back at the bar again.  After only fifteen minutes he found himself relaxing just as he did the night before.  He had never thought leaving the house would be good.  Instead, he had convinced himself the farther he got away from it the more pain he would feel. 

Mary had given him a small notebook a couple of weeks ago to “write out his thoughts”, as she said.  He hadn’t been separated from it since then, and he found himself filling it up rather quickly.  The whole thing was full of things he wanted to tell Crowley.  Things that he never said before his sacrifice.  Things he was going to say after the crisis was averted.  And things he wanted to say to his ghost.  He pulled it out of his trench coat with a pen and opened it up to where he left off.

“Yes, I’ll have a Light Pina Colada.  Don’t forget the umbrella.  It’s really my favorite part.”

Castiel turned his head towards the stranger who had just ordered the drink.  It was what Crowley drank when he wasn’t in hell.  His drink of choice would never be served in a local bar… it was too expensive and impossible to obtain.  Unless you’re the King of Hell.  His body began to heat up with pain, but just a little bit. 

He took in the stranger’s appearance.  Dark hair, neatly trimmed beard, a black suit, probably in his early forties.  It was eerie.  He felt as if he were looking at a younger version of Crowley, albeit a less snarky -and American - one.  He was still curious, but he didn’t want to stare.  Besides, the more he looked at this stranger, the odder he felt.  Turning back to his notebook, he started to write.

“Crowley, tonight I’m sitting two barstools away from a man who could almost be a younger version of you.  He’s too polite though.  I’m sure that would make you laugh.  I’m back at the bar Sam took me to last night.  I didn’t think getting away would make it better, but it does.  I’ll probably be leaving the house soon.  It’s like your ghost is there, and I keep looking for you.  I’m not sure where I’m going to go, but Sam and Mary will be able to help me with that.  Obviously, I can’t go to the bunker.  Dean didn’t let it go this time.  I think I still feel a little pain from him abandoning me, but I’ve told myself I must let it go.  Besides, it’s like talking to Sam makes it better.”

“Here’s your drink.  And don’t worry.  I chose the pink umbrella.  Kinda spices things up.”  The bartender said, and the stranger laughed.  “Can I get you anything else?”

“Well, I don’t suppose you have any Craig back there.  Aged thirty years at least.”

Castiel turned quickly to the stranger again.  Both drinks.  Both not common.  The little umbrella.

“Not a chance, hun.  And how in the world did you even get to drink that?”

“I’ve been told it’s particularly good.”  The stranger replied, and the bartender laughed.

He was still staring at the stranger when he felt it.  That original pain when Crowley had made his sacrifice.  It was so bad that he felt like he was going to throw up.  He quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying any attention to him and was relieved that no one seemed to be.  Hopefully he would be able to set himself to rights before people started staring.

Taking a deep breath, he started the series of deep breathing he had taught himself over the weeks when the pain came back.  He knew it would take a while, but he continued to do it.  He thought about the good times not only with Crowley, but everyone.  All the wonderful, deeply meaningful times.  He felt the pain ease until it was just the familiar dull ache, and he opened his eyes, looking around. 

The stranger was still there, and he was still inconspicuous.  Turning back towards his notebook, Castiel started writing.  “This is very weird, but that stranger just ordered your drink.  And asked about your absolute favorite.  Craig.  Could you believe that?  Honestly, it threw me.  I started hurting again.  I mean, really hurting.  That hurt that was there when you killed yourself.”  He paused and took a deep breath.  It was supposed to be another calming breath, but a very faint smell of sulfur assaulted his senses and he fell off the stool.

No. No. No.  Getting up quickly he ran towards the nearest exit, which happened to be the back door.  Opening it up, he staggered outside, where he took another deep breath, this one free of sulfur.  His head hurt, almost as if he had hit it on something, and it was preventing him from moving.  He hadn’t felt this pain _ever_ , and he just stood there holding his head.

“Hey, are you okay?”  He heard the stranger’s voice and turned around.

He didn’t know what to say as the pain in his head spiked again.  “Fine.  I’m fine” he managed to get out before he grabbed at his head again.

“You don’t look fine.  Hey, can I call you a cab or something?  I don’t really—”

“NO!”  he paused “I mean, I can—” the searing pain behind his eyes was getting worse and he just started to run down the ally, trying to get to the next ally, so he could get away.  The farther away he got from the bar, the more the pain in his head started to ease, and by the time he got to the other ally, it was almost gone.  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.

 

 

_Castiel felt each thrust and he kept getting more and more aroused.  Crowley bent down, and they indulged in a sloppy kiss as if they were both starving for it, as if they couldn’t control themselves._

_“You have no idea what I want to do to you right now.”_

_He moaned loudly.  “Do it.”_

_“Next time.  Believe me.  It’ll… be worth. It.”_

_“I.  Can’t.  Wait.”  He knew it was going to end soon as his breath became shallow, and he was being brought closer and closer to the edge each time Crowley’s cock drove into him. It took him by surprise when he came, but the pleasure he felt was infinitely more than he had ever experienced.  It stayed there, almost too much, until Crowley himself came and the demon collapsed on top of him, both resting for a bit._

_He didn’t realize that Crowley had pulled out until they were lying side by side on the bed and their hands caught each other’s.  He turned on his side, pulling Crowley with him, and they joined in a slow, lingering kiss.  When they broke apart, he rested his head upon Crowley’s and breathed him in._

_“So, why now?  We’ve known each other for a while…”_

_“Well, there was that whole apocalypse thing…”_

_“Mm… yeah.  And then the whole tablet debacle….”_

_“Honestly, Castiel, did you actually think I wouldn’t take it out of your stomach?”_

_He laughed.  They were bitter rivals.  This - them lying together on a bed after having sex - was never thought to be on the cards.  “It took Dean becoming a demon….”_

_“And your help…”_

_Castiel smiled.  He had never felt more content, and he chose to stay that way, even though there was something in the back of his head telling him this was the worst thing that could happen.  He finally felt whole.  Unfortunately, there was a little voice in Crowley’s head as well, and the demon listened to it for once._

_“We can’t do this again.”_

_He frowned, and his feelings of contentment turned into mourning.  He knew Crowley was right, but he desperately wanted him to be wrong.  He knew that eventually they would end up on opposite sides, and no matter how they felt, they would have to betray each other. If they had cut it off now, at least it would save a lot of heartbreak._

_“I just need the rest of this night…” he tried to compromise with Crowley._

_“I—” he could feel the demon tense.  “We can’t.  I need to go.”_

_The next second, Crowley was gone._

 

 

Castiel stood at the entrance of same bar the next night.  He didn’t necessarily want to go in, but he had left his notebook here.  Once he had gotten home, he had wept for hours and started to apologize to Crowley for when he said yes to Lucifer.  How he watched what Lucifer was doing to him; how inside he wept, as he realized that he may have made the biggest mistake of his angelic life.  He knew he was talking to someone who could never answer him back, and that made it even more unbearable.  He had fallen asleep, silently crying out his apology over and over.

Opening the door, he once again took in the atmosphere.  Slowly, he walked around to the other side of the bar, where he had sat for the past two nights.  He hoped that either the bar staff had found his notebook or that someone had turned it in.  He didn’t want to stay tonight.  He didn’t ever want to come back.  As he arrived at where he had been sitting, he saw the stranger from the night before had already arrived. Preparing himself for the pain from the night before, he made his way over to his stool.  There was no pain, only the dull hum that was constantly with him. He let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and waited for the bartender to notice him.

 

 

_Castiel sat in the bunker, trying to maneuver around a computer.  Sam always made it look so easy, and he knew his slow pecking of the keyboard was far from exemplary.  Hairs rose up on the back of his neck as he sensed someone was here.  He let his angel blade slide down so he had it in his hand.  Turning around, he came face to face with Crowley._

_“Ah… the Winchester’s angel sidekick.”_

_“What do you want, Crowley?  They’re not here.”  He hoped that he successfully kept the longing out of his voice._

_“Oh, yes, I already knew that.”_

_“Then why... why are you here?”_

_The demon was brushing what looked like invisible dust off his coat.  “Well, you see, I’ve thought about the other night quite often these past few days.”_

_“And?” Castiel was going to lose it if Crowley didn’t leave soon._

_He watched as the demon wound his way closer to him, until he was standing right beside him.  He leaned in to whisper in Castiel’s ear “I’ve changed my mind.”_

 

 

“Excuse me.” He was brought out of his memory.

It was the stranger.  He turned toward him and saw his notebook being held out to him. 

“You left this here last night.  It was a very interesting read.”

His entire body shook with anger.  The only person that was allowed to read it was dead.  Eyes narrowed, he snatched it up from the stranger’s hand.  “How dare you—”

“Castiel.” 

His eyes widened as the stranger’s voice changed from a clipped, American one to the gentle lilt of an English one, and most notably, one that he thought he would never hear again.  Tears pooled in his eyes as he stared.  The dark hair, the trimmed beard, the exquisitely tailored black suit.  He might not have looked the same, but it was him.  The tears ran down his cheek as he was brought in for a hug.  An amazingly, wonderful, tight as hell hug, and he started to laugh.

“It’s you.  It’s actually you.”

“In the flesh.  Albeit a slightly different one.”

“I love you.  Oh my God, I love you so much.”  At this point Castiel was outright crying; and all over Crowley’s suit, at that.  “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry….”

Crowley started stroking his head while still holding him tightly.  “Feathers, I heard you last night.  You don’t need to keep apologizing for that.  I thought you knew that.”  He gave a kiss to Castiel’s temple.

“I haven’t apologized enough.”

They pulled apart and Castiel stood there looking at Crowley, who at that moment looked as unlike Crowley as ever.  Seeing this, he smiled.  “Ok Crowley.  Just… ok.”  He watched as the Crowley he knew came back. “Please… kiss me.”

“My pleasure.”

They came together in a kiss Castiel thought he’d never be able to have again.  It deepened, and as it started to turn hot and heavy, Crowley broke it.  “Let’s go somewhere more private.” 

Castiel gave him another quick kiss.  “I know just the place.”

 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Months Later

“Oh my god, Christian, you are freaking hysterical!” wheezed Dean as he stood up.  “Where on earth did Cas find you?!”

“Dean, you know where Cas found him.”

“Hush, Sam.  I was making a-a....what was I saying?”

Castiel watched as Sam got up from his chair and walked over to Dean to steady him, which the latter really didn’t seem to like. “One more, Sammy!  Then I’ll be good!”  Dean turned towards them with a twelve-megawatt smile “Another?”

Beside him, Crowley nodded, but made a pointed look towards the bottle across the room.  Cas himself wasn’t drinking; at this point he was tired of drinking alcohol-flavored water, and the only time he did was when he and Crowley went out to a bar together, to take in the “atmosphere.” 

“Yes, Christian!  The whiskeys for you!”

 

Two months earlier, he and Crowley sat on the bed after indulging in one of Crowley’s more kinkier fantasies, catching up on Game of Thrones.  He never healed himself after sex.  Once Crowley found that out, he ended up in an hours long session of pleasure and pain.  It was glorious.  Soon, they settled into what one might call domestic living, just them.  Two people in love.

There was a knock on the door of the house, and they immediately dressed.  He headed toward the door, angel blade up his sleeve.  Opening it slowly, it revealed Dean, who had his head down as he waited.  As the door opened, Dean looked up and into Castiel’s eyes.  Crowley was a couple of feet away in case anything happened, but somehow, he knew nothing was going to, and waved his hand slightly letting him know it was okay.

“Dean?”

“Castiel.  Can I come in?”

“Um, yes.”

Dean was standing back in the house where he had left Castiel with angry words and the proclamation that he was no longer welcome at the bunker.  He looked quite humble, which he could say Dean had only ever looked twice since he knew him.  “I’m sorry, Castiel,” he looked down, “I was just so mad.  Then I was hurt and, well, even though I wanted to take back all my words, I just couldn’t.”  Dean looked back up, staring into his eyes again.

Castiel decided to stand his ground.  He would no longer bow down to every word that Dean Winchester said.  “You hurt me.  You left me when I was broken.  The chip on your shoulder overcame any sense of compassion.  You saw me, Dean.  I was hardly functioning.”

Dean nodded.  “I know.  It was the worst thing that I could’ve done. I wish that—”

“You wish?” Crowley’s voice, Americanized once again, spoke to Dean.  “I don’t know what exactly happened when you left Castiel, but he was broken.”

He watched as Dean turned his head towards Crowley, eyebrow raised.  “And who are you?”

Castiel was about to introduce them, but Crowley beat him to it.  “Not that you even need to know, but, name’s Christian.”

Dean turned toward him again.  “And who is he?”  This angered Castiel so much, he scowled at Dean, his body shaking with rage.  “Wait!  I’m sorry, I just—”

“You don’t have the _right_ to even know who I spend my time with now.  You don’t have the _right_ to judge them.  You don’t have the _right_ to stand here after three months and try to take up the same space in my life that you once had.”

“You’re right.  I can never apologize enough—”

“Then just stop.  Apology accepted.  Now, it’s time to prove it.”

 

And so it was, just a few months later, that he and Crowley were sitting in the bunker basically having a drinking party with the Winchesters.  Something that at one point he would have called impossible.  Crowley, alone, was impossible.  He gazed around the group one at a time.  There was Crowley, who was telling Dean yet another dirty joke.  Sam, who looked both amused and concerned, his usual look to be fair.  Dean, who was laughing jovially and handing the whisky to “Christian,” and Mary who just gave him a radiant smile and a wink… one he had to return. 

And he was here only because it was “after-hours”.  No hunting.  No research.  No imminent danger.  He had told them, from the night Dean had come to the door of his house that he wasn’t going to be working with them anymore.  Even though Crowley had given himself a way to come back, Castiel didn’t want to be taken away while he was “in the fight.”  And he wasn’t as wily as Crowley, who told him that he had hidden part of his soul away in the body of New York accountant, as he had never intended to leave Cas alone. It had just taken him a little longer than planned to take full possession of his new meatsuit.  Castiel didn’t want to know what had happened to the accountant, and never asked.

And now they both wanted a peaceful life.  It took a bit of time for them to accept that, but they did, and with understanding.  Crowley had told Cas that he had grown tired of playing his role as King of Hell, so was pleased to be able to reinvent himself, and Cas felt the same.

Suddenly, Crowley turned to him, dropping the American accent, and whispered, “So, tell me again why I’m here, drinking the most god-awful whisky and paling around with the Winchesters again?”

He turned toward him.  “Because you love me.”

Crowley smiled. “That, I do.”


End file.
